Book 'Em Bridget

by Danielle Norman

  “Eli, you’re close to her brother, aren’t you?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then do him a favor and keep his sister far away from Nazari.”

  “You don’t need to tell me—you need tell her.” I was quiet for a minute. “I’ll be there shortly.” I disconnected and merged into traffic, trying my damndest to get to the Maitland Exchange exit faster than I’d ever done before. I kept glancing at my dash clock as I watched the minutes tick by, five . . . ten . . . fifteen, fuck.

  I was letting my anger fuel me. I was mad at Bridget for continuing this. Cutting around another car, I drove down the shoulder to my exit. Rule number one about driving is not to get behind a wheel when you’re angry. Okay, that was rule number two. Rule number one was not to get behind the wheel after you’d been drinking.

  Breaking what had to be my tenth law for the day, I made an illegal U-turn instead of driving a mile out of my way just to get into the restaurant’s parking lot.

  At the eighteen-minute mark, I was cutting my engine and sliding from the driver’s seat.

  “May I help you?” the young hostess asked as I approached the podium.

  “No, I’m just meeting some friends.” Her smile was bright, but mine was tight.

  As soon as I turned to the dining room, I saw them, which wasn’t hard even in a crowded restaurant. They were eating, talking in hushed tones, and the damn PIs were taking notes. I moved in, and eyes slowly pivoted and then locked on to me, all but Bridget’s since her back was to me.

  I laughed when Piper cleared her throat and the four Iron Ladies—I couldn’t remember their names for the fucking life of me—quickly shoved their notes away.

  “Bridget, look who is here.” Piper pointed to me, and Bridget twisted in her seat. Her eyes grew wide.

  “What are you doing here?” she snapped.

  “Funny you should ask. That’s exactly the same thing I was going to ask you.”

  “I’m having lunch with my friends.” She waved her hand around the table.

  “Oh, perfect. Then you won’t mind if I join you.” I grabbed a chair from a table across from them and pulled it over and set it on the side of the booth near Bridget.

  “Actually, I do mind. This is a girls’ lunch.”

  “Oh, I won’t bother you. I’m hungry and hate to eat alone. You all don’t mind, do you?” I locked eyes with Piper before moving to Harley then to Kat and Sadie. Then I turned my attention to the Iron Ladies, they were known as cold and calculating, and no one had a true take on them. In fact, I was sort of surprised that Bridget was even friends with them.

  “I’m Sunday,” the smallest of the four women said. She was dressed as if she were headed to church, in her pastel colors and pearls, which kind of made her some kind of living, breathing paradox, since these four ladies had a reputation for being badass. “Bridget, I’ll call you later. Piper, Sadie, Kat, Harley, it is always great to see y’all. Call, and we can do lunch again.” She slid out of the booth, so I stood, too. Yeah, I did have some gentlemanly tendencies. I continued standing as the other three ladies rose and said their goodbyes, but none of them introduced themselves to me.

  I pierced her with my most intense gaze. “Care to tell me what was going on here?”

  “Nothing, just having lunch with my girls.” I followed Bridget’s line of sight to two pieces of paper sitting on the table. Before she could reach them, I pressed one hand on her shoulder and held her in place as I reached over and snagged them. “Hey, asshole, those are mine.”

  “Bridget, we’re going to leave you two be. Call us later?” Piper waved for the server. “Can we have our bill?”

  “Your friends already took care of it. They also said to put anything he orders on it.” She pointed to me. “Can I get you anything?”

  “What can you do fast?”

  “I’ll get you a Bubble burger, how would you like that cooked?”

  “Medium. But I’ll pay my own bill, thanks.”

  “We’re out of here.” Harley wrapped an arm around Bridget’s head and pulled her back so that their eyes met. “You okay?”

  “Yeah, he’s just smoke.” She chuckled.

  “Take it easy, asshole,” Piper warned.

  I reached out and wrapped one arm around Piper’s waist. “I will and thanks.”

  “What are you thanking me for?”

  “You’ve always got your tribe’s back, no matter who it is or what they’re into.” I waved the papers. “But this is something that is above you, okay?”

  “We aren’t a tribe; we’re a gang.”

  “Oh, Scooby, Shaggy, and the gang, cute.”

  “Bite me.” Piper flipped me off and walked off with Harley and Sadie.

  I waited until they left and the server brought my food before tearing into her. “What the fuck are you doing, Bridget? And where did you get this other list? I thought you didn’t see everything. Did you fucking lie to me?”

  “No. It’s nothing like that.”

  “Then what is it like?” I took a bite of my burger as I waited for her to explain.

  “I was going to bring the other one to you today. Remember? I asked about Friday, um, today is Friday. I had lunch with the girls—”

  “Who you showed the letters to,” I added.

  “Whatever.” She waved her hand. “The gray one is the same note I gave to you, I just tried to bring up my imprint from my notebook.” I shook my head, I didn’t want to admit it, but it was actually kind of ingenious. “The other one, I found.”

  “You found it?”

  Bridget stared down at her hands. “It was sort of hidden, but I recognized the cream paper, it was the same type I’d seen in that van. I looked at it, but then couldn’t get it back into its hiding spot.”

  “Fuck. Where did you find this?”

  “At the sheriff’s station.”

  “Was it in evidence?” Bridget shook her head. “I’m about ready to start screaming, tell me where the hell you found it.”

  “On a detective’s desk.”

  “Shit. Which division is he in? Or who is his commanding officer? Fuck that, who had this note?”

  She took several deep breaths then reached forward and picked up her soda with shaking hands.

  “He’s a general investigator.”

  “So, Callum is his lieutenant?”

  She nodded. “Which is how I knew that he isn’t working on a case. When Callum saw what I’d written from the first note, he had no idea what any of it was.”

  “What’s his name, Bridget?”

  “Justin Camfield.”

  “Let’s go.” I stood and then took hold of her hand to help her up.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To my office.”

  “Give me my notes please.” I folded them and put them into my front pocket. “Fine, whatever,” she huffed.

  “You’ve made copies, haven’t you?” Bridget shrugged. Frustrated with her, I grabbed my wallet and threw some money onto the table to cover my burger and a tip. “Let’s go.”

  I escorted her outside and was pushing her toward my car when she dug her heels in. “Yo, I drove, I’m not leaving my car on this side of town. I’ll follow you.”

  “Bridget, so help me god, if you don’t, I will have you hauled in. I’m not playing.”

  “Lead the way.” Bridget marched over to her car and got in.

  I got behind the wheel of mine and started my engine. As I drove to my office, I maintained a decent speed, making sure that Bridget was able to make each light that I made. When we neared my building, I decided that I should probably call Perone and warn him.

  “Grey, what do you have for me?”

  “I’ll be in the conference room in five with a guest. Need Chiu and Lehr in on it.”

  “Done.” He disconnected just as I pulled up to the garage and showed my ID to the guard. I signaled to Bridget behind me.

  “She’s with me, let her through.”

  “Yes, sir, Age
nt Grey.”

  I pulled into my parking spot as Bridget pulled into a visitor spot. In under a week, Bridget had been to my office two times, that was two more times than she’d been in since I started working here. This time I escorted Bridget into the conference room, where the rest of the team was already seated. “Bridget, you’ve already met Supervisory Agent Perone, this is Special Agent Chiu and Special Agent Lehr.” Bridget held out her hand and shook each of theirs.

  “Hello, I’m Deputy Bridget McGuire.”

  “I think I know your brothers, Callum and Aiden?” Chiu asked.

  “Yep, I have to claim them,” Bridget joked.

  “Have a seat, Bridge, want some water or a soda?” I pulled out a chair for her.

  “Nope, I’m good, thanks.” Bridget sat, and I moved to the front of the room as I pulled out the notes from my pocket.

  “Here’s what we have.” I tossed them down. “Bridget found another note. She says it is written on the exact same type of paper as the first. If you look, the pattern is the same, description, coding, and what I believe to be pricing.”

  “It’s already part of evidence?” Chiu asked.

  “No. I placed it in that bag after only holding it with latex gloves to preserve any fingerprints.”

  I was torn. Part of me was pissed at Bridget for overstepping, and the other part was pleased that my colleagues were seeing how intelligent she was and that she had the forethought to consider fingerprint preservation.

  “Where did this new note come from?” Perone asked.

  “She found it on a detective’s desk.”

  “Why the fuck did you take it? You should have snapped a photo and left it. It would have given us time to get things into position without tipping him off.” Lehr had gone off, as newbies often do.

  “I couldn’t. It was under the computer, only the corner of the paper was sticking out. I had just seen that same type of paper earlier in the day, so it really stood out to me. I pulled it out to look at it and had every intention of putting it back, but it wouldn’t go. I would have actually had to rearrange his desk to put it back. I made a decision, because he was going to know someone had messed with his desk anyway, but my way, I got the actual note. It didn’t get there by accident; he had to have hidden it there. Since I have it, I’m hoping there is a small chance he won’t know who to contact for a new one, or he’ll be too scared to admit it’s missing. I wanted to think that maybe a few girls would be saved because of my action.”

  I smiled, totally seeing Bridget playing it out in her head. “And before any of you ask, we are positive that it isn’t part of an ongoing case. His commanding officer is Detective Lieutenant Callum McGuire. Callum is who sent Bridget to me because of the first letter, he had no clue what to make of it, having never seen anything like it.”

  “We can’t find Nazari or Salib, so I say we have a chat with the detective. Do we have anything else on him?” Perone asked.

  “His name is Justin Camfield, but I’ve never had any interactions with him. Have any of you?” I asked, and both Lehr and Chiu shook their heads. “We’ll get IT doing a cross reference search to see if there are any links, just to be safe.”

  “Bridget is in a perfect position to help. Why don’t we set her up—”

  “No. Absolutely not.” Everyone stared at me. I wanted to tell them that over my dead body would I allow them to use her as a pawn but instead, I came up with other excuses. “If we use her, we can kiss any working relationship that we have with Orange County Sheriff’s Office goodbye. The fucking sheriff attended Bridget’s graduation, from the high brass all the way down, everyone knows her and will support her. We create a clusterfuck in Sheriff Dempsey’s station and we will have an enemy. But if deputies know it’s her against Justin, then you will divide the force, people won’t know who to believe without evidence. Bridget was in dispatch, one brother is a detective, the other is in motors. Her four best friends are deputies. Her dad is a retired captain. You will sever friendships.”

  “I can speak for myself,” Bridget interrupted.

  “Really? How about think—” I glared at her as I cut myself off. Fine, I was pissed. But, she didn’t give me that note right away. Instead, she talked to those detectives. I know damn well she was looking for advice on this case, which was not only stupidly dangerous, but also could compromise our investigation. “I should have been the first person you went to with that list.”

  “Grey, you’re right. Pulling her in would open too many doors for possible information leaks.” Perone tapped the tips of his fingers together. If I didn’t know for a fact that he was a good guy, that gesture would appear very villainous. “Deputy McGuire, thank you for coming in. Please do not involve yourself in this matter. If you should learn anything else, please notify Special Agent Grey immediately. I assume that you have his number.”

  “I do.”

  “Perfect. If you’ll excuse us, we need to talk. I assume that you can find your way out.” Perone gave Bridget a chin nod. I moved around the table to escort her out. “Grey, stay, we need to talk.”

  Bridget left without another word. Shit. She was pissed. She didn’t get that I only wanted to keep her safe because she meant way too much to me. Later, I’d head to her apartment and try to smooth this all out.

  Chapter 10

  Bridget

  Damn it, Bridget. I scrubbed my face with a tad more force than I should. Okay, I was exfoliating. Yeah, let’s call it that. But I was so pissed. I wanted to be aggravated at Eli and blame this whole thing on him, but I knew that it fell firmly on my shoulders. I shouldn’t have waited until today. I should have taken it right to him when I found that damn note. But he didn’t have to be so smug. I bet he was at his office telling everyone, I told her not to . . . blah. Ugh.

  I slipped into my pajamas, it was my insurance to myself that when Eli came over—and I knew he would—I would not be tempted to answer the door. Hello, no makeup, non-sexy pjs. Nothing worth seeing here.

  I grabbed the veggies from my refrigerator and set them out on a cutting board, then reached for a sharp-ass butcher knife as visions of murder flashed before my eyes. While slicing an avocado, images of Eli and his self-righteous face danced before me. Unfortunately, when it came time to slice the bell pepper, my anger seeped out. Pushing it to the side, I grabbed the tomato and sliced, each cut making me angrier at Eli’s heavy-handed treatment. Fuck. I ended up dicing the tomato instead. I stared over at the purple onion and debated if I should give it a try or just grab a second knife and do my best impression of Morimoto.

  My phone rang, and I smiled when I saw it was Harley calling me via FaceTime.

  “Yo,” I answered, grabbing the bell pepper and cutting it up to add to the pile.

  “Hey, just checking in to make sure you survived. By the way, you’re going to town with that knife…maybe I should ask if he survived.”

  “He’s alive, for what it’s worth, and if he wants to continue that way, then he will stay out of my way.”

  “I’m assuming that it didn’t go well.”

  “You assume correctly.” I tossed the knife into the dishwasher and then washed my hands.

  “Care to elaborate?”

  “Um.” I brought one finger up and tapped my lips. “Let me think, how can I explain it? I felt reprimanded in the most roundabout way ever. It was the most passive-aggressive talking down I’ve ever had.” I cleared my throat to try to deepen my voice. “You’ll call Eli if you learn anything else, I assume you have his number. We’re done. I assume you can find your way out. It was very cut and dry.”

  “So, where does this leave us with Justin? What do you want to do?”

  “I’ve been told to do nothing, but how about we talk about it tomorrow at Sixes? Let me sleep on it.”

  “Sounds good.”

  “Yep.” I grabbed a roll and started assembling my veggie sub. “Harley?”

  “Yeah?”

  “He infuriates me so much that I want to sc
ream, and then at times he’s so fucking sweet to me that I want to take him up on his offer of dinner.”

  “Here’s a thought, you know how I always try to one-up Aiden?”

  “Yes, don’t remind me. I think I’m scarred for life from overhearing your conversations.”

  “Haha, fuck you. Seriously though, it’s my way of getting his attention. Maybe aggravating you is Eli’s way of getting your attention. And maybe you’re doing all of this as a way to get his attention.”

  “Who are you, Dr. Phil?” Harley laughed at my comment. “Anyway, I doubt that Eli is trying to get my attention, I know the kind of women he dates, and they are nothing like me.”

  “So what . . . they’re ugly? Stupid?” Harley asked. God, I loved my friends.

  “No, they’re . . .” I held out my hands in front of my chest to show huge breasts.

  “They carry watermelons?”

  I cracked up at her response. “They’re usually lanky model types that have some boobage, very curvy, and are named Gretchen and Greta.”

  “Milkmaids, got it,” Harley said and let out a whistle.

  “Will you stop? Ma always accused him of hanging out at a plastic surgeon’s office to pick up dates.”

  Harley coughed. “I love your mom.” She stopped talking at the sound of my doorbell. “You expecting someone?” She raised an eyebrow.

  “Nope. We can ignore it. Continue.”

  “Bridget?”

  “What? It’s probably asshat, and I don’t want to see him.” I took a bite of my sandwich so I couldn’t answer whatever else it was that she was going to say.

  “Answer your damn door and talk to him. You’re frustrated, maybe he can help work some of it off.”

  My doorbell rang again and was followed by knocking. “Open up, Bridget, your car is outside, and I saw your shadow moving around through your window when I pulled into the parking lot. I know you’re here.”

  I tossed my sandwich down and went over to the cabinet where I kept cleaning supplies, where I grabbed several candles and my lighter.

  “That’s my girl. Set the ambiance, then ride his cock to the finish line,” Harley cheered.